


(HOW) to be not so afraid

by gDeIpVhIrNoEtt



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-12
Updated: 2016-02-12
Packaged: 2018-05-19 22:56:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5983468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gDeIpVhIrNoEtt/pseuds/gDeIpVhIrNoEtt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"What scares you?" isn't really the question - </p><p>"Is there even a prospect fear?" was the question. Sephesis, AU-ish or not, doesn't really matter. Rated M for some swearing. No scenes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	(HOW) to be not so afraid

**Author's Note:**

> More rantfics!! And, smug Gen. Hahahahahahahahahahahahahaha. Still no smut, hahahahahahahaha. I sincerely hope you enjoy.

1\. "What scares you?" Seph randomly messages Gen one night.

Genesis replies with an obnoxious "Hahahahaha."  
A few seconds later he adds, "Are you doing a prompt or like a list challenge of some sort?  
Sounds like a Valentine's and Halloween dare put together.  
Why don't you answer that question?"

"Fuck you then," Sephiroth sends the message in a fraction of a second. hisses, raises his middle finger even if Gen isn't seeing it. turns his phone off.

2\. The night passes, loud thoughts waking his exhausted brain. At the moment, there's only one materialization of fear that blares to his mind – Gen's anger, fury, Gen being pissed off at him (this never happened and honestly has a negative prospect). Maybe Gen's eyes bombarding cyanide at him, note that the silent yet stormy manner would put ice queens' deathglares to shame.

Counterproof: Seph, as silent yet stormy as Gen's cyanide eyes would be, finds comfort and intrinsic pleasure in knowing that _there is actually someone like me. Those eyes, I know those eyes, I do them too._

3\. He'll be many things for Gen. He's already been many things for Gen (in the good way), yet definitely still not counting the number of times he's gone out of his way (Seph still found a certain smile and an unexpected implausibly-complacent stillness in his heart after the victories…hard-earned yet silent, pleasing in its very own impartial way) to be those things. to highlight certain contours of his soul he hasn't thought existed before. to swallow down a significant amount of pride but nevermind because this earns him "Whew, things worked out in the end _and_ we didn't kill each other as predicted".

Victory never washed over his anxious mind so sweetly, so reviving.

4\. They'd never be spinsters of lies for each other. It's just that _Sephiroth never bullshits_ and _Genesis was and will never ever be the one to kiss ass_.

"A marvelous combination," Seph muses to the elder man quite often. today. even yesterday. Oh, they don't have to count the number of occurrences.  
They're too busy smiling at them, silently.

5\. They're together in their own way.

And things do work out unfailingly always way better than both expect.  
Just discard the fact that Genesis is lie-immune and Seph is a walking lie-detector.

 _Sweet_ , the redhead would acknowledge the truth in Seph's muse. It comes with a smile so badass. most often, Gen's eyes glint in deep delight, hard-hitting as the imaginary feel of thunder – it was just really part of the package.  
His fingers mirror the tenderness of quiet, waning flame. Is it this corporeal tenderness that unexplainably bruises his soul, or the emotional brusqueness?

He's too busy reveling in the sentience, nevermind that it's subconsciously – _it still is happening._

6\. Sephiroth continues the muse like this: _you send all my fears scrambling to hell_ , but a muse is just a muse so he grits his teeth (he'd swear that transfiguring this discomfort in his chest to a smile is what makes him feel beautiful no matter what's really going on inside – not so much his perfect lips or finely-shaped eyes).

_We're too much like icebergs, "loving" using our subconscious, telling each other the sweetest things bludgeoned with disfiguring damage (but we never fall for each other's coverups) that the sheer, umm, you can call it a defense mechanism – of keeping our feelings under wraps is just so ridiculously passionate and meticulous._

_We could get art degrees, burying our confessions in oceans and oceans and oceans of metaphysical planes, such deep, dark honesty we strew and adorn, titivate, whatever the word is - with all sorts of stardust – but we both know that just makes whatever this is more worthwhile -_

You'd argue that it's the real art that are the feelings so raw that they're not at the tip of the iceberg and instead at the parts muffled under the ocean,

The rant swells in Seph's brain. It's the unlovable winter wind that whips his chest, sapping all its counterparts that give life to his body, he dismisses (or more honestly, insists).

Which really had the final say, the spoken words and vocalized feelings, or the soundless subconscious?

7\. _You send all my fears scrambling back to hell._ Gen's eyes could almost look innocent and unjudging but maybe that revelation would be too selfish – it's not really that much of pointless  
but the alarm it would bring Gen, the siren blare that would render Seph's nine million imploring words and attempt for takebacks or explanations or "I didn't mean it that way" or "screw its" so pathetically inaudible. It would be way too late.

It's not really _never_ is better than _too late.  
_ It's about _wrong_ will always be _wrong_.

 _Unnecessary_ will mostly continue being so.  
That night, Seph decided that the gut should and will be relationships' nucleus and the subconscious the soldier. Screw every single form of the crap they call "heart". _People pretend to use it when they're too genetically unfortunate to have a brain._

8\. "You both laugh at the same weird af things," friends notice.  
Teachers comment that their brains have the same sincere-straightforward way of thinking.  
All these are backed up with Sephiroth, for fuck's sake saying to himself "I know those eyes, I hold the same eyes," every time Gen's unforgettable ones flash in his own little world (which honestly exceeded a billion). Or, "Those comebacks sure do sound like me." Nevermind that it's voiced in a mumble because the eagerness and excitement and whatnot it harbors is just too impassioned. There are way too many variations expressed in ways twice the amount (screw accuracy, the number is too gregarious).

9\. Morning fog disillusions the rest of the community population but Sephiroth cringes when it's broken by the thinnest spiderthread of a lightray. It mirrors the end of his little yet meaningful fantasies, powered with such sincerity that it's heartbreaking.

He remembers tapping his palms ever-so-lightly on Gen's chest, breaking lip contact. _And because I needed to breathe._ How different would it be if he grabbed Gen's neck and pulled him closer instead – if he held on to the elder man's pulse and refused to let his heart quiet down and reveled on how he's able to emotionally devastate Gen to the point that it explodes against his ribcage – _whoa, I am actually capable of making someone feel this way about me_ -  
But the whole point was to help each other take care of said hearts, anyway –

_Your heart is your own for safekeeping._

Let's not give ours to each other, let's give them the chance to be friends instead. Friends who unfailingly look after each other through it all. You know, like buddies who cheer each other on. Put each other in line when it starts crapping on itself.

10\. When they kissed, time stopped but his limbs didn't really freeze that badly. Seph, riveted green eyes refusing to close or even as much blink, wondered how both of them are nothing short of two supposed-to-be-parallel lines that ended up so unbelievably-in-the-fascinating way twisted, wrenched, bent…twisted at least seventy million times too much to ever qualify for "right" –

It's never going to be that pristine (Gen's voice slur when he says that word is also some sort of fascination) sort of unwalked. They could forget the delightful serendipity that came with discovery or development or whatever you wanted to call it. There'll be no such thing as the sheer bliss of "my first times to do the following and it was just simply terrific" –

Eyes, fingers, wholehearted body language send the "screw that, we don't need that crap" agreement. An unspoken hi-5 of their brains, the tender yet securing nod of their "hearts".

Who needed the invious? _The best fucks are seldom virgins_ , Genesis would say with a contemplative shrug. _And those eyes that challenged the whole world._

11\. Sephiroth hated the number 1 and preferred 3. Genesis did like 2 – "Okay, 2nd time doesn't sound too bad," he'd say with eyes that windowed emotion and intention from deep inside, eyes that will never be projections, eyes that Seph just has to trust himself enough that he's interpreting as accurate as they come.

Maybe it was frightening that one minute they're parallel lines, ice and fire quite friendly with each other. Casual yet precious winks, smiles from their deep hearts still not a perturbing galvanization. Say, wholehearted yet undemanding –  
then every jerk and sigh and rise and fall of Gen's shoulders suddenly becomes so…unexplainable. Windshield wipers sensitive against the rain, the parallel galvanized to oh-so-pertinent intersection. Seph would cock a genuinely-interested eyebrow. Genesis would not fight 25% of a short smile.

12\. _Aha_ , Sephiroth catches something concrete. It's fear and anxiety, he now remembers, that deathgrips him when he seriously ponders over uttering hazardous words like _Can you stay for a little bit longer_ or _I love you, so just blame the reasoning -because you're there-_.

He knows they're terribly WRONG things to say, not because both find such pretenses _disgusting_ and _useless_ and _limiting_ just to name the minimum -  
Gen's eyes would both warn and _plead_ at him for both of their goods, Seph's lips mirroring that and freezing then shut tight and trembling for the longest century ever. Both their hands will jerk away from the nuclear-fireworks painting they're concocting ever-so-passionately together.

It's simply just not worth it, far too many things would fall apart. The intersection of their meetings and conversations down to the deepest, deepest, deepest thought Seph weeps for every night would oh-so-easily-uh-oh short-circuit _just fucking like that_ and they'll be back to parallel, watching each other from a careful distance.  
Not that it's unsatisfying….no, they'll never be unsatisfying to each other.

13\. Yet that short-circuit is still not enough to qualify for sheer terror or emotional paralysis, because no matter how many times you murder _Genesis Rhapsodos_ , he's the person that keeps on living. _And he'll come back laughing in your face._

And as for short circuits, that's the thing about them – they're so temporary it's laughable. So no. No valid fears so far… _yet?_

14\. _Ah_. This scenario: Seph trying to feel Genesis as close to him as possible – (the scary rating would go as far as 8/10) – but Gen's hands bar him from pushing further. Yes, it is still marvelous contact considering _the corners of their hands barely hit each other even by accident_ , but it's just not the kind that Seph _wants_ , _wants_ , _wants (needs,_ he justifies this in his head as _needs_ ) -

Genesis flashing him the most heartwrenching mélange of regretful-catious-sad-weary in the history of mankind, all in one still-sensible smile. A weeping yet unwavering whisper of " _Let's not push it further_ ". Which was more impossible – Genesis' still-looking-okay face that anyone who didn't know better would mistake for callousness, or his fricking tenderness about all this?

15\. The prospect fear is still invalid – the succeeding minute is unpunishing and it passes, relief flooding the atmosphere, as if congratulating both for trying to understand each other and not fucking blame. They could even deem each other "good as new" if not "better" or "upgraded" – sure, they may be back to parallel.  
But they're smiling at each other with the sincerest of eyes. watching each other, grounding, encouraging, reassuring…

It's thankfully not " _I love you_ ", but rather " _I am here_ ".

Of course, Gen unknowingly fucking graces him with what they _BOTH NEED_ and _NOT WANT_ , free-of-charge. A narrow saving grace, getting away from the unwanted elements and memories by the skin of their teeth, as the "happy people" would call it. dodging a knife thrown at you by catching them sideways with those same teeth, surviving because you believed in yourself and outstepped the dark side by mere fractions of a second.

 _Let's be proud of ourselves and make it so that we will always be proud of ourselves_ , both of their hearts beat for that particular reason.

16\. Genesis asks him this time, half-challenge half-contemplation:  
"And if you tried to kiss me but I push you away?"  
"Why would I-" comes out as a weak reflex.

Honestly, Sephiroth doesn't have to bother hiding any of the following: anxious flinches, the alarm waking the dragons in his eyes, desperate clenching of fists more distress than fear. _It doesn't matter, Gen sees every single fucking thing. Gen sees through everything.  
_ And more importantly, Seph doesn't bother to look up and get a clearer picture of Genesis' serious-smug smile. _When I see that, I run out of words._ Genesis is unbearably, infuriatingly fucking _looking_ up-down, up-down the expanse of his chest to his eyes _and yes you do look at me but this is the first time you're doing it like this_ -

The elder man slinks even closer, cornering him against the wall with such power balanced by some grace and Sephiroth cannot even fucking breathe in to save his life -

"Well?" Gen's voice drowns everything out. slices apart any disturbing sound frequency or noise that would disrupt the moment's sheer intensity so Seph would be caged in and _this is just way too intense, I need space, Genesis you're too close, I can't can't can't can't can't can't can't move_ -

"I'm waiting," _Frozen, frozen, frozen._ G inches even closer and their lips almost touch. Almost.  
 _I need to move, need to move, move, Seph, fucking move_ – G maintains the proximity yet ever-so-slowly shifts to the right, then to the left just for the sake of driving the younger man insane with anxiety and terrifying pressure and the most exquisite temptation and this is all just a game to him, _Genesis I know that you're fucking testing me. You've clearly told me many times, set the boundary many many times and I swore that nothing would make me break my agreement, I am never going to kiss you because you told me to never ask again –_

Gen tilts his head, his lips now ghosting over Seph's jaw. Seph's ear. the sweet point where jaw and ear meet. And he does it slowly. unbelievably. impossibly.

The temptation plagues and tortures and twists him and blurs everything for god knows how long. Sephiroth doesn't remember and doesn't want to remember how the hell it all ended without a single kiss or even touch _and_ no mote of trust between them was destroyed _and_ neither is angry nor disappointed at the other.

Well, Genesis Rhapsodos is one unbelievably impossible bastard.

 _And so are you_ , Gen would hint at the thought with sufficient prodding (or bribing). (Or yelling). (Or guilt-tripping).

17\. Sephiroth didn't want to lose, honestly. He answers the redhead's question through an SMS:  
"Even if I did it, I'm just sure you won't push me away. You'd just look at me with eyes so full of pity. Surprisingly, I would find solace in them instead of degradation. Your eyes would never insult me."

He just sighs contently at how texting a full-blown confession is worlds easier than facing Genesis for real.

18\. Half-unwillingly, Sephiroth remembers how he forcibly tore his gaze from Gen that unbelievable night. When he felt a tad bit better, he also laughed to himself really darkly at his incapability to tear his heart away from everything G is. They are experts at avoiding each other's eyes and masking one million confessions they're too confused about with the most ridiculous jokes, dark humor and what not, but when push came to shove both failed at tearing the eye contact apart.

_Who's the one drowning in the opia?_

Seph would willingly volunteer to take that, honest as he is.

Genesis would shamelessly polish up his dandy smug smile and simply say, _It's because my eyes are beautiful._  
Then the atmosphere has completely changed.  
Nevermind because _Genesis sees and knows and understands everything._

The winter wind whips through Sephiroth's overfull thoughts enough to rip their connections to each other. He wonders how the fragile night stars survive under such adversity. He wonders if they like or are jealous of how Gen's eyes glint darkly yet hold nuclear energy.

Maybe Seph would brush his lips against the heartwrenching yet endowing waves of Gen's voice with all the awe of the world, nevermind that it's fairly unflagrant. Maybe Gen would be faintly intrigued. Maybe Gen would silently, simply think it beautiful and never tell Seph a mote of his thoughts.

(As he usually does.)

Come to think of it, the realization is anything but victorious for Sephiroth.

19\. "When you don't hold my hands anymore should we kiss – scratch that, if you didn't hold my hands when we kissed." – when lips just dump the feelings you want to get rid of on lonely lips. _Don't ever show me you want to run away from your feelings. As you've held my hands and mine yours – as we've held each other's hands, show me that you will face whatever's in your heart – you will face us._

Of course, Seph doesn't vocalize that longass paragraph. He wonders if G got what he's trying to say, scratch that – how much he got of what Seph wanted and was trying to say.

"You don't have to be scared, then. Even though it's not like we will kiss again, I do like that hands ritual."

Sephiroth knows better than to ask why they can't – scratch that, why Genesis won't ever kiss him again.

 _I thought you liked the number two_ , the younger man almost says seriously, then he remembers Genesis has kissed him _twice_. _In a row_. So that was the thing – Gen hated odd numbers, unfortunately. Second thing, 2 couldn't jump over 3 and reach 4 magically.  
It's not such a good feeling, hearing what Gen just said. The younger man sighs yet again.  
Genesis offers the parallel vocalization – he's out of words yet he's leashing a hurricane of cathartic humanity –

20\. "When you stop being who I need and downgrade to my wants, that would be severely worrying," Seph adds to the prospect list -  
"Oh, you'll never stop wanting me, Seph..haha."  
 _I'm damned_.

_I was damned from the beginning..._


End file.
